


Oasis of Leisure

by ibreathethroughwords



Category: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Anal, Bondage, Gay Sex, I wrote this ages ago, M/M, Teasing, it took me like two years to get back into my DA account, operates on belief that all drow are bi, this is over three years old, which is where this was originally published
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibreathethroughwords/pseuds/ibreathethroughwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during Dissolution, immediately after the scene at the public baths. Pharaun knows what he wants and has no qualms about teasing Ryld to get it,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oasis of Leisure

After leaving the comfort and relatively secrecy and safety of the baths, Pharaun thought it might be a good idea to get some rest before either Greyanna caught up to them, or they managed to successfully murder a patrol and were, in theory, whisked away by the boys they had invested so much time in searching for and uncovered the Prophet's master plan. Even the strongest of dark elves could go only so long without taking Reverie, and after spending several hours avoiding the hunt as well as the hunted in the Braeryn, Pharaun was more than ready for a bit of rest. Their bodies were clean now, and their muscles relaxed from the combined heat of the water and wine. With the excitement gone, the Master of Sorcere could feel the beginnings of fatigue creep around the buzz in his mind created from their—his, really, for it was difficult to convince Ryld to drink much so early in the day—early morning celebratory drinking. Thankfully, near to the baths was an inn that, while not particularly lavish, was not necessarily unpleasant. The wizard knew from experience that the staff there was rather good at keeping secrets for the right price, and the rooms were always comfortable.

So it was that Pharaun soon found himself enjoying the feeling of wrapping spider-silk sheets around his freshly scrubbed skin as he lounged on the only large Reverie couch in the last of the inn's vacant rooms. The decor in the room, though reasonably elegant, was refreshingly sparse as though the decorators had sought to avoid overloading the senses of their esteemed guests. After their long run through the Stenchstreets and the bombardment of unpleasant sights and even more unpleasant smells, Pharaun could not complain about the sudden scarcity of things upon which to gaze.

Letting out a dramatic sigh that cause Ryld to raise an eyebrow at him curiously, the Master of Sorcere closed his eyes and flopped back against the pillows, looking relaxed (at least by drow standards). “And I thought that long soak felt good. It feels as though I haven't properly stretched out to rest in a tenday!”

Ryld shook his head, watching Pharaun bask in the comfort of the warm, soft blankets. Pharaun caught the movement and raised an eyebrow. “Well, aren't you going to join me?”

With a sigh, the warrior shifted to stretch out on the sheets next to the smaller male. It had not been so much a request as a demand if the expectant look on Pharaun's face was anything to go by. If Ryld did not comply willingly, the mage would find a way to get him to do it anyway. At least the Reverie couch was not too fancy and overly comfortable. Certainly, it was less garish than the wizard's usual tastes, and that alone made it more bearable to Ryld.

“Oh, don't look so reluctant,” Pharaun scolded. He gave Ryld a look of exasperation. “It's not as though I'm asking you to curl up in a bed of demanding high priestesses.”

A fleeting look of horror and a shake of his head at the thought were the first responses Pharaun received for his efforts. “One high priestess at a time is more than enough. I can't—I don't want to—imagine what being in a bed full of them would be like.”

“Exhausting, to say the least,” Pharaun replied with a chuckle. The warmth emanating from Ryld felt good, and Pharaun absently shifted closer to him, to the heat of his naked skin. “I have never known a priestess—especially a high priestess, mind you—to be anything less than perfectly strict and controlling in bed. Imagine having to grovel to three or four of them makes me...”

The wizard let himself trail off as his alcohol-laden mind absently drifted back to the time he had been arrested for blasphemy. Being used against his will by eight vicious high priestesses—and some of them were not even the slightest bit good-looking—had hardly been an experience Pharaun would label as enjoyable even under the best of circumstances, which that was not. Next to him, Ryld waited patiently for Pharaun to continue. When it became clear by the look in his eye that the wizard was lost in his own thoughts, Ryld reached over and gently shook Pharaun's shoulder, hoping to bring his life-long companion back to reality. Suddenly, the smaller male looked up, startled out of his private memories by the warrior's warm touch.

“What is it?” Ryld asked, his neutral tone masking his curiosity at Pharaun's uncharacteristic slip into silence.

Pharaun gave him a cheerful smile, careful to not reveal any emotions with his face. The alcohol buzzing through his head made it difficult, but he felt he managed rather well, all thing considered.

“Oh,” he said, “it's nothing.”

“You stopped talking,” Ryld pointed out. “In the middle of a sentence no less. It has to be something.”

Pharaun added some more charm to his smile, even as his eyes hardened and the lines around the outside tightened, a silent warning to Ryld to drop it. “So I did.”

The wizard's companion rolled his eyes, and Pharaun took the opportunity to look away. “I was merely contemplating my own past experiences with our lovely females.” It was part of the truth, at least, and it could not hurt to throw Ryld a bone and share at least that much information.

Ryld grimaced a little, perhaps remembering a time or two of his own when he had been the unfortunate object of a female's lust. Pharaun reached out to pat Ryld's arm, missed the first time, and gracefully recovered and managed it on the second attempt. As his hand made contact with the other male's skin, he noticed that Ryld had still not removed his hand from Pharaun's shoulder. It was fuel on the fire of an idea that had been growing since the moment their clothes had started to come off in the public baths, and the alcohol only seemed to make it easier to think about. Perhaps now was a foolish time for such things, but the thought of sharing an embrace with Ryld instead of one of the city's princesses was a terribly tempting thought.

Pharaun had never been very good at resisting temptation when the benefits of giving in outweighed the results of resisting.

He gave in to it.

“Thankfully,” he murmured as his fingers lightly caressed Ryld's arm as they had so many times before, “there are other options available in our great city.”

The warrior, ever observant but skilled at being intentionally dense, snorted. “You're not suggesting we go buy and share a whore, are you?”

With some effort, Pharaun resisted the urge to smack his intentionally obtuse friend upside the head. Instead, he shifted closer in the bed to Ryld to make his point. The movement was a familiar one, something he had done on many occasions with the warrior before, and he knew that Ryld would recognize it for it was—an invitation to release and enjoyment. He pressed his lithe, graceful body against Ryld's harder, thicker form, and slid his fingers from the warrior's arm, up over his shoulder, to trace teasing circles on the back of Ryld's neck. The warrior closed his eyes and shivered slightly, and Pharaun smirked. He had Ryld right where he wanted him, and they both knew it.

“There are, after all, better, more... convenient options right here,” Pharaun continued. His tone was low and sultry, his eyes lowered in an invitation that matched the press of his body.

Ryld sighed—to Pharaun, it sounded almost annoyed—but wrapped his arms around his companion anyway. “You're suggesting we lower our guard completely.”

“We're already letting our guard down to take Reverie,” Pharaun pointed out. “That's why I warded the room and you laid traps at the door, remember?”

“We should be resting for tomorrow.”

“Why can't we rest after?”

“We'll be more vulnerable if we do--”

Ryld never got the chance to finish his sentence, for as he spoke, Pharaun rolled his eyes and pressed their lips together, effectively silencing the warrior. As he kissed the other male, he pressed his body completely against Ryld's and tangled their legs together. After a moment, he had to pull away for air.

“Oh, for Lloth's sake!” he breathed, hands already sliding everywhere over Ryld's dark, soft flesh. “Would you just stop complaining and just kiss me?”

After a moment, the Master of Melee-Magthere complied, crushing Pharaun to him as he slammed their lips back together.. The wizard trembled slightly under the force of the harsh, unrelenting kiss and his fellow instructor's firm grip. A quick shift of his weight, a graceful repositioning of limbs, and Ryld had Pharaun pinned beneath him. His weight kept his fellow instructor in place, though Pharaun would not have tried to squirm away even without it. This was, after all, more or less what he had asked for, and now he was determined to enjoy it.

Ryld seemed content to make the task of enjoying the moment fairly easy for Pharaun. Calloused, skilled hands easily found by memory the places that made the wizard sigh or moan with pleasure. He exploited them, sliding his lips from Pharaun's down over the black skin of his neck. A gasp escaped the mage, and he slid a hand down to wrap around Ryld's member, teasing him with feather-light touches and soft whimpering sounds near the warrior's ear. As Ryld sucked on his collarbone, Pharaun turned his head enough to snake his tongue out to brush over the tip of the other drow's ear. The sound of a low groan from the typically silent fighter made Pharaun shiver and inspired him to new heights. It had been an awfully long time since they had last done this, after all, thanks to his house arrest.

“I missed this,” he murmured in Ryld's ear. Gently, Pharaun nipped at the pointed shell of his ear and moaned softly as he gave the hardening shaft in his hand a slight squeeze. “It's been such a long time, hasn't it Ryld? Do you remember the last time we did this?” Pharaun sucked on Ryld's earlobe, thoroughly enjoying the shuddering moan he got in response. “You were so good, I couldn't walk properly for a week.”

Through lidded eyes, Pharaun watched as Ryld worked his hot mouth lower, closing over one of his nipples. He wanted to see the effect his words would have, if any. The wizard's body arched into the delicious sensations tongue and teeth produced, and his hands clenched tight Ryld's shoulders. “We don't have the luxury of giving you a week to heal this time,” Ryld murmured, reminding Pharaun of their risk in doing this.

Leave it to Ryld to be a killjoy, Pharaun thought, and lightly grazed Ryld's ear with his fingernail. “Then you should use a lot of oil,” he whispered instead. Pharaun wanted to break Ryld's composure, at least a little. Even though the warrior was touching him hungrily, had given him such a desperate kiss, there was control evident in each of Ryld's actions. The wizard hated it. He wanted to see Ryld lose himself in the act, regardless of whether or not it was, at present, a good idea. 

Ryld kissed him again, Pharaun supposed, in an attempt to shut him up. Closing his eyes, he tried to lose himself in the kiss, but the thought of all the things he could do and say to Ryld kept butting into his mind. When the short-haired drow pulled back to breathe, Pharaun took the initiative to stroke him harder and moan. “I can't wait to feel you in me,” he murmured, spreading his legs under Ryld a little to better make his point.

His fellow master groaned, and nipped Pharaun's skin rather roughly in reply. “Don't be so impatient,” he chastised. Large hands slid down over a slender stomach and hips, and Pharaun's body arched into the touch. His hips lifted as he tried to get Ryld's hands where he wanted them. Ignoring Pharaun's wants, Ryld pulled back to kneel between the other male's legs. A simple touch sufficed to spread the wizard's legs, and he set to work teasing Pharaun. As lightly as possible, Ryld slid the palms of his hands over the inside of Pharaun's thighs. Up they moved, higher and higher until Ryld's thumbs were in danger of brushing again Pharaun's balls, then they retreated. Pharaun watched him, teeth biting at his body lip as he watched Ryld watching him. Their eyes met, and Pharaun's hand moved from the spot on the sheet it had clenched onto to his own shaft. Gingerly, as though Pharaun was feeling shy of touching himself in front of Ryld, he wrapped a hand around himself and began to stroke. A moment later, a hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked up into Ryld's eyes, amusement plain on his face. The warrior was surely onto the wizard's game, and Pharaun had a feeling this was going to end differently than it usually did.

“No,” Ryld murmured, tugging Pharaun's hand away. The outcast Mizzrym prince raised an eyebrow at him.

“No?” he repeated, mocking Ryld.

The already powerful grip around his wrist tightened in a way that made Pharaun's cock twitch and his heart race. Ryld took his hands and pinned them over Pharaun's head, leaning down over him. It was hard not to let it go to his head, this big, powerful male bossing him around, but Pharaun held himself in check. If he let Ryld take charge, what would happen? The curiosity nearly overwhelmed him. While it was rare the wizard would want to give up any of his control, the desire for new knowledge of his favorite companion was strong, and really, what kind of scholar would he be if he did not allow himself to savor this new experience? Ryld had probably never had anybody submit to him before—and especially not a prince from a House on the High Council. It would be interesting to see what his friend would do under such circumstances.

His mind made up, Pharaun lowered his eyes just enough to let Ryld know it was alright this way, and then gave him a slightly defiant look, egging him on. Just because he had agreed to this did not mean he had to make it easy for Ryld, after all. Ryld's leg was pressed between his legs, so Pharaun lifted his hips and pressed down, grinding himself against the thick, warm limb. Above him, red eyes narrowed slightly, and cast about the room as though looking for something. Whatever it was Ryld was looking for, he seemed to have found it for he got off the bed and disappeared for a moment. Pharaun pushed himself up on his elbows to watch as Ryld went into the attached bathing chamber and returned to the bed with one of his belts and what appeared to be a vial of oil. Allowing himself a rare almost-smirk, Ryld set the oil aside but conveniently within reach, and instead pushed Pharaun back against the pillows. Lifting the belt in one hand, Ryld recaptured Pharaun's wrists with the other and used the leather to bind his wrists to one of the posts in the headboard.

Pharaun took a moment to calm himself. This was not a position he was used to being in, and it typically ended badly for him. However, he told himself, he could still move his hands enough to cast if Ryld was planning some ghastly betrayal: he was not helpless in this situation. Ryld seemed to sense his hesitation and he stopped before moving away. After all, the purpose of this was not to frighten Pharaun, but to make it harder for him to rip Ryld's control away from him. He looked down at his friend's face, eyes silently asking if he was alright with this. For a long moment, they looked at each other, and Pharaun had a feeling Ryld knew that he was sizing the warrior up, searching those blood red depths for any hint of betrayal. Finding nothing obvious, and feeling rather convinced by Ryld's hesitance that all would be well, Pharaun nodded his assent.

Ryld did not hesitate a moment longer. He leaned down and drew Pharaun's lips into a hungry kiss even as he grabbed and worked the vial of oil opened with one hand and used it to coat the fingers of his opposite hand with the slippery substance. Pressing Pharaun's legs farther open as he ravished the mage's lips, Ryld rubbed a finger over his entrance, coaxing a whimper from his sometimes-lover's mouth. He continued to rub it in circles over the hole as his lips worked over Pharaun's upper body, continued until Pharaun was dripping pre-cum onto his own stomach and visibly biting hard at his bottom lip to keep himself from begging Ryld for more. Slender hips pressed down against his finger, and the digit almost slipped inside. Pharaun felt triumphant for a moment, then groaned in frustration when Ryld pulled the finger away completely.

“Patience,” he whispered into Pharaun's ear. Ryld teased a piercing with his tongue and Pharaun trembled against him.

“Fuck me,” he whispered back, before he could stop himself. “Let me feel your cock, Ryld.” Begging was pitiful, and he knew it, but if Ryld did not go further Pharaun was going to either lose his patience and interest completely or lose his mind from unsated anticipation. Ryld seemed to sense it, and he complied, pressing the slick digit in slowly. The Master of Sorcere closed his eyes, panting a little as he felt the finger inside him. It had been a long time since he had been with anybody, and longer still since he had last been with Ryld. The finger, thick by dark elf standards, moved carefully inside him with a skill born of much practice. It hit Pharaun in all the right places to relax him, and he moved with it as much as Ryld would let him. When the warrior felt Pharaun could take it, he pressed a second finger into him, carefully scissoring them to make sure Pharaun was stretched out enough for him. While it usually would not bee so bad to have Pharaun unable to walk for a couple days, right now it was important he was able to move around easily. The time for pinning the wizard down and giving it to him roughly would come later, after they had solved the mystery and saved Pharaun's life.

“How's that?” Ryld asked, curling his fingers a little more to massage the muscles across the top. Pharaun looked up at him with glazed eyes and tugged a little at his restraint. 

A pink tongue darted out to wet the wizard's lips. “Just--” he stopped to moan as Ryld found his prostate and proceeded to make Pharaun see stars. “Just do it!”

Ryld wrapped his other hand around Pharaun's length, stroking him slowly. “You have to be able to move in the morning,” he reminded him. “Are you sure?”

Even if Pharaun was not ready, he was not sure he would have been able to say no. Thankfully, he felt like he could handle it without limping about all of the next day. He nodded, clenching his ass around Ryld's fingers. “I'm ready!”

To his credit, Ryld did not press any further about it. He nodded, withdrew his fingers, and reached again for the oil. Ryld coated his cock liberally with the stuff, wanting to make sure Pharaun would be alright the next day. When he was fairly dripping, Ryld settled back between Pharaun's legs, positioned himself, and pressed forward.

Even after ample stretching, his friend was still as tight as a virgin, and Ryld had to grit his teeth to retain his self-control as he entered the wizard. The noises made by the male underneath him did little to help his situation. Ryld let out a long, low groan as he slid in fully and took a second to gather himself. Pharaun watched him through half-lidded eyes, aroused as much by the sight of Ryld's face and the sound he made as by the feeling of their bodies connected. The fighter looked good like that, Pharaun decided, leaning over him with a sheen of sweat coating his dark skin like that. He shifted his hips around Ryld, making sure he was ready, and gave his companion a confirming nod. Ryld returned it and pulled out just a little, a slight move that made Pharaun gasp and close his eyes. Nobody had ever been careful with him before, and the sensations were different from the barrage of pleasure he was used to. Ryld's careful movements inside of him were necessary, he knew, and that was likely what stopped the warrior from pressing into him with abandon. 

Still, Pharaun found he liked it. He had taken his time with female slaves and whore before, of course, drawing out the pleasure in an effort to tease himself, but he had never had it quite this way with a male. We will have to do this more often, he thought. 

Ryld seemed to sense that Pharaun's mind had drifted a little bit, for he frowned down at the wizard and pressed in harder, drawing the mage's thoughts back to the present. The motion ripped a small cry from Pharaun's lips and his back arched slightly off the bed. Above him, Ryld seemed to nod slightly with approval, and Pharaun realized that Ryld had read him correctly. Focusing his thoughts on the here and now (for there would be plenty of time for contemplations later), Pharaun lifted his legs to wrap them around Ryld's waist. He could not use his hands to control the pace at all, but he could use his legs as leverage for thrusting. When his fellow instructor did not protest the act, Pharaun tightened them slightly, using his muscles to pull his body closer to Ryld, impaling himself further on his member. Groans escaped from them both as Ryld slid deeper, and Pharaun did it again, matching the fighter thrust for thrust. It was not long at all before Pharaun's world narrowed entirely to Ryld—the sight of the fighter above him, his sounds, his breath, the feeling of him moving quickly inside Pharaun—and the wizard felt himself becoming close to losing himself in the sensations.

“Ryld,” he gasped, wit stolen from him by the sudden urgency of his own motions, “touch me!”

As though he seemed to know that Pharaun was close (Something, Pharaun's mind managed to quip, that he ought to know by now.), Ryld reached between them to take the wizard's cock in hand. He nipped at the tip of a graceful, elven ear, and Pharaun moaned. 

“Come for me,” Ryld murmured into his ear. “Scream when you do it, let me hear you scream my name.” 

It would not be a difficult request to fulfill. Ryld's hand tightened around him at the same instant he thrust against Pharaun's prostate and the drow was lost in a wave of sensation. “Fuck!” he swore. Pharaun gritted his teeth, trying to hold out just a little bit longer, but it was too late. His head tilted back, his back arched, and his body tensed as he spilled himself into Ryld's hand. The power of his cry seemed to charge the room a little as though Pharaun had unwittingly drawn on the Weave. The mage tightened around the fighter, felt Ryld lose himself inside him, and kept fucking himself on Ryld through their orgasms, instinctively drawing out every last bit of pleasure for the both of them. Finally, when it was impossible to move anymore, Pharaun let his legs fall from Ryld's waist and his body go limp into the softness of the Reverie couch. The fighter rested on top of him, breathing just as hard as Pharaun himself. Ryld lifted a hand to Pharaun's wrist and unfastened the belt that held his hands there. It felt good to have them free, and the Master of Sorcere dropped them to rest against Ryld's head and back. He absently stroked over the stubble that passed for Ryld's hair and the wet skin of his back. 

They lay together in silence for a handful minutes as they regained their breath, and finally Ryld pushed himself up on his elbows and slid his soft cock out of Pharaun with a quiet grunt. When he stretched out on his back next to his friend, the smaller male somehow found the strength to roll onto his side to face Ryld.

“See,” he said, “that wasn't so bad, was it?”

The smile in his eyes was a teasing smile, but Ryld still merely rolled his eyes at him. “Worth the risk,” he conceded. 

Pharaun chuckled and rolled onto his back, stretching languidly before turning his head back to Ryld. “I suppose you want to take Reverie now.”

Ryld nodded, and Pharaun thought he looked rather tired. He could not really blame the fighter. It was difficult to keep his eyes open now that he had been so thoroughly exhausted. “That does sound like a brilliant idea, if you don't mind my saying so.” Pharaun's voice was quiet, and knew he would soon have to take Reverie or risk falling asleep like a human.

“Rest,” Ryld said, his eyes already half-closed, his voice distant as though he was mere moments away from Reverie.

Curling just a little closer to the fighter, Pharaun closed his eyes, made sure his alarm spell was still holding, and gave in to the urge to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> I operate on the "all drow are bisexual or pansexual" philosophy. I bet drow males have better sex with other drow males, because they probably aren't having to fear for their lives and souls the entire time... they just have to be cautious.


End file.
